


Soulbound - A Succubus in Love

by Natron77



Series: Lewdnessday Tales [12]
Category: Monster Girls | Monster Boys, Original Work
Genre: Cunnilingus, Demons, Erotica, F/F, Lesbians, Love, Monstergirl, Oral Sex, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, Succubus, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23429248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natron77/pseuds/Natron77
Summary: Rima is a succubus living in the human world, but she has her amazing wife Portia at her side. But even during a romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant, being a succubus can cause some... trouble.
Series: Lewdnessday Tales [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/444721
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Soulbound - A Succubus in Love

Villa Alighieri was the finest restaurant in the city, the kind where the menu didn't list any prices and every entree had its own recommended wine pairing with a vintage of 20 years or more. Rima could afford it, of course, but getting Portia on board had proven surprisingly difficult. Ten years together, and she still didn't truly understand the scope of Rima's wealth.

No, she wasn't some billionaire who could buy and sell small countries, but saying that she had money to spare was putting it too lightly. In fact, in order to avoid the attention that true wealth attracted, Rima needed to spend all of her income before it compounded and earned even more interest. A few lucky investments four-hundred years ago and now it felt like she couldn't spend money fast enough.

"How do you like the wine, my love?" Rima asked, her voice as dark and sweet as the liquid in her glass. "1994 was a very good year for reds. It's no 1787, of course, but what is?"

Portia smiled a subtle smile, one corner of her lips slightly higher than the other, her red lipstick bright against her pale skin, and Rima felt her heart skip a beat. She'd spend a million dollars a day to keep that smile going, and thankfully she didn't have to. Portia was easy to please, and kinder than Rima deserved.

"It's delicious," Portia said, tucking a wisp of vibrant brunette hair behind her ear. That lock kept escaping, and a lesser woman might have complained about her hair stylist's mistake. But Portia just rolled with it, making it work for her. To her, every imperfection was just a puzzle, a little adventure, a scenic opportunity to stop and enjoy the flowers of life.

"It's a little strong, though," she added. "If we finish this bottle, you may need to carry me home."

Rima smiled back, but it felt fake next to Portia's radiance. Not for the first time, Portia distantly wondered if Portia was an angel in disguise, sent from Heaven to pull one hell of a long con on one inconsequential demon. It had been decades since Rima had been involved in the holy war between Heaven and Hell, and even then she'd just been a Sin Counter, the demon equivalent of an accountant, albeit with a lot more sex involved.

But no, Portia was just a human. The demonic pact she and Rima shared had confirmed that. Rima had never wanted to tarnish their perfect love with a contract, but Portia's sudden marriage proposal had complicated the situation.

"I wouldn't mind that one bit," Rima replied, fidgeting with the ring on her left hand. It was pure silver with a slim band of white gold, and she had to leave it behind whenever she visited family, lest its presence poison her relatives like reactor-grade uranium would poison humans. It turned out that holy matrimony and demons didn't mix, at least not without a powerful pact to insulate the demon from Heaven's might.

Portia let out a small sigh when a waiter passed by their table and nearly tripped over his own feet. At a nearby table, a man and woman who had been staring romantically at each other were now looking at Rima instead, and the lonely man in the corner booth was so infatuated he was actually drooling.

"You're doing it again," Portia said.

Rima blinked innocently, or at least as close as a succubus in disguise could come to 'innocent'. "What do you mean?"

"Look around. Everyone's got the hots for you."

Rima chuckled. "What's new?"

Portia wasn't amused. This wasn't their first date to have gone this way. "Your aura. Can't you tone it down?"

"Not while I'm this attracted to you. You know how it works."

Portia's annoyance was already fading. She truly had the patience of a saint. Jokingly, she asked, "So it's my fault?"

"Yes, and no. When I see you, my heart goes all aflutter, and so does everyone else's in a thirty foot radius. But no, you did nothing wrong."

Portia rolled her eyes, those gorgeous green orbs filled with speckles of starlight. "Just think about taxes or something. I'd rather not disrupt this lovely restaurant's business."

"As you wish. I need a new accountant, though. My latest one got suspicious about my quote unquote grandmother's charitable fund, and I can't just tell him that I set it up myself 70 years ago. It'd be _so much_ easier if I could just handle my taxes myself. It's not that different from my previous job… but I know it would look too suspicious for such a wealthy person to do their own taxes."

Once Rima's thoughts were on something other than Portia, the effect was immediate. The patrons of Villa Alighieri returned their focus to their dates and expensive meals, and the staff resumed their tasks at full competency. Then the food arrived and gave Rima something better than taxes to ponder: the best chicken parmigiana outside of Italy. As a succubus, she didn't need to consume food to survive, so if she was going to eat something, it might as well be high quality.

"Mmm-mm, this is _so good,_ " Portia moaned as she bit into her own meal. She had ordered the chef's choice as well, but she'd added a side of fettuccine alfredo. Portia jokingly referred to it as 'mac and cheese for adults' and it was her guilty pleasure; she ordered some at nearly every restaurant that had it on the menu.

As Portia licked the creamy white sauce from her lips, a shiver ran down Rima's spine, and then the spines of everyone else in the room. Portia was the only one unaffected; she had built up a resistance to Rima's aura through constant exposure.

Rima pouted and said, "Must you make such exquisite sounds? I can't focus on my food after that."

Portia twirled her fork teasingly. "Just hold strong while I enjoy my meal, then you can have your fill of me." She grinned, letting a little of her devilish side show for once. "Think of it as pleasure denial."

Rima gave a firm nod, set her jaw, and stared at her food like it had just insulted the Queen of Hell. With the proper motivation, she could do anything, even this. She cut into her chicken breast, ignoring the word breast and the bit of Portia's cleavage at the top edge of her vision, above the slinky black dress that Rima had gifted her, claiming it had cost just $200. The meat inside was moist and glistening, hot and steamy and—

Rima closed her eyes and shook herself off that line of thought. When a slice of breaded chicken got her that worked up, she knew she was in trouble. At this rate, she wasn't going to make it home without causing a scene. Whether it would be her aura or her own actions that triggered it, she couldn't guess.

She took a deep breath, and calmly said, "Can you come with me to the bathroom? I just need a little… help with something."

Rima _thought_ she had said it calmly, but it came out like the needful plea of a pitiful addict, which was close to accurate. Portia was immediately concerned, bless her heart, but she didn't understand the problem.

"What's wrong? Upset stomach?" she asked.

Rima stood up and brushed her hands along her hips to smooth the wrinkles in her red silk dress, and to calm her nerves. "Something like that. I just really need a… snack."

Portia figured it out after that. 'Snack' had secret meaning in their relationship, so much so that they no longer used it to refer to food at all. Her face went as red as the marinara on her plate and she whispered, "Now? Here?!"

Rima strode forward until she was standing over her seated wife. "Not here, in the bathroom. Please?"

Portia nodded, then made a show of grabbing her purse off her chair as she stood.

Rima smiled in approval. Portia had a great sense of how things might look from an outside perspective and it had helped keep Rima's secret on countless occasions. Rima went back for her own purse then followed Portia, thinking, _Nothing to see here. Just two women going to the restroom together for a feminine emergency of some sort._

* * *

"Thank the Queen," Rima sighed. The women's room was completely empty, _and_ it had a lock on the door. Rima locked it and spun to face Portia. The brief walk to the restroom had been torture, watching those hips wiggling from side to side like Poe's pendulum, cutting closer and closer to Rima's utter destruction.

Portia smiled back, unwavering in her support. She'd known what she signed up for when she'd proposed. "What's got into you tonight?" she asked, not a shred of judgement in her voice. She was just curious, always curious, always wanting to know the _why_ of everything.

Rima took one step forward and her glamour started to fall away, revealing her true form. Her hair stayed a deep glossy black, but her skin changed from a Mediterranean tan to a rich reddish purple, like the inner flesh of a ripe plum.

She answered, "This has all been so romantic, and you know I'm a sucker for romance…"

Another step and her horns appeared, two crescents erupting from her temples and curling around her lengthening ears like ram's horns. She knew that Portia rather liked those horns, both in appearance and utility. And they were about to be put to use.

The whites of her eyes inverted, black sclera around pale blue irises, bottomless like the ocean and driven like a rushing river. Her tail was last, and it betrayed her intentions. It whipped side to side like a stalking tiger's, the barbed tip cutting through the air with a steady _FWIP, FWIP, FWIP._

"J-just a snack," Portia stammered, finding it very hard indeed to stand up to the approaching demon who had concentrated lust boiling in her eyes. Portia had to look away before Rima's power sapped her remaining will away. "People will get suspicious if we take too long, and our food will get cold."

"Of course, my love," Rima purred. "I'll be quick." A forked tongue flicked out between glistening lips, but it didn't pull back in. It lingered and tasted the erotic mood in the air as Rima effortlessly lifted Portia from the floor. She set her on the slate countertop between the bathroom's two sinks, and spread her legs.

Portia was wearing black elastic panties, simple and comfortable and hemless so they wouldn't show through her dress. And they were already a little damp.

With practiced ease, Rima slid them up and over Portia's heels, then she tucked them in her own purse. She hadn't always been so careful when removing panties, but the time at Portia's parents' house over Thanksgiving had changed all that. Having to explain to her in-laws why not one but _two_ pairs of wet panties were hanging from the laundry room light fixture had not been pleasant in the least. Portia still thinks her parents bought the story about the panties being 'hand wash and air dry only', but Rima knew better.

No time for reminiscing; Rima had work to do. Not that it felt like work. No, this was recreation and indulgence, pleasure and satisfaction. Rima buried her face between those alabaster thighs, pressed her nose into a soft thicket of hair that was perfumed and carefully trimmed every single day because Portia was _too damn thoughtful_ , and let her tongue slide naturally into its familiar destination.

It only took a single lick to take the edge off Rima's need, but she couldn't stop at that even if she'd wanted to. That first taste had opened Rima's senses like an uncorked wine bottle, and she was determined to drink every. single. drop.

Her tongue was long and limber, and it knew exactly where to go: deep. Rima's lips had their own task of pleasing another set of lips and servicing a needy little button. Portia had very specific pleasure points and normal lovers couldn't hit them all at once. Rima was no normal lover. As a tangy taste hit the tip of Rima's tongue and wetness greeted her mouth, she knew she was on the right track.

There was also an abundance of far-from-subtle aural and visual cues, like Portia's arched back, her white-knuckle grip on Rima's horns, and the blissful moans and squeaks escaping her lips. Rima drank those in, drawing strength from their lewdness, from the intimacy, and from the love that emanated from Portia like vapors off a hot spring. That's right, apparently succubi could take sustenance from love, at least partially. But like the carbs and protein in a balanced diet, she needed some raw sexual energy and reciprocated lust too.

As much as she wanted to draw this out, to savor Portia's pleasure for hours and hours until she cried out for relief and quivered and collapsed and had to be carried home, Rima had promised she'd make it quick. She hit Portia's weak points, the irreverently nicknamed Holy Trinity of lips, clit, and cervix. Each one needed its own particular pressure: heavy, medium, and light respectively. Like a cross between solving a combination lock and writing a love song, Rima leveraged both skill and artistry in concert to coax an orgasm from deep within Portia's core.

Like they had a thousand times before, the signs of success appeared in order, like a victory parade in Rima's honor. First, Portia's muscles went weak everywhere but her hands, which held tight for dear life on Rima's sturdy horns. Then her thighs clamped down, squishing Rima's cheeks and lips into a pucker that would have been comical were it not hidden from sight by an orgasming pussy. Rima's favorite part came next as a veritable flood of fluid hit her tongue. Portia wasn't a squirter—fortunately, given the existence of stealthy situations just like this one—but she got positively _**wet**_ when she came.

Aftershocks and giggles usually followed, and the giggles were dangerously infectious. There was something about Portia's genuine cheer that penetrated Rima's terse exterior and got her laughing along too. The rush of vitality coursing through her demonic blood like a hit of cocaine probably had something to do with it, too. To a demon, and to some humans as well, _giving_ an orgasm was an even greater rush than receiving one.

Fighting that insidious happiness that was threatening to make her burst into laughter, Rima gently pried Portia's fingers off her horns and extracted herself from between her legs. It was just in time, too, since there was a knock at the door.

"Excuse me?" said a young woman's voice on the other side. A waitress. "Are you okay in there? Another customer would like to use the restroom."

Rima was already washing her face but she paused to say, "I'm fine, just a little bout of morning sickness. I'll be out in 30 seconds."

"Morning sickness?!" Portia whispered, fighting a residual giggle. "It's _eight PM_."

"I've learned some tricks in my time. Awkward topics like that put people off their guard and keep them from asking questions." Rima dried her freshly washed face on a hand towel, wiped off the counter where Portia had been sitting, then tossed it into the laundry basket in the corner.

Portia grabbed for the flying towel but she was too slow. "Aw, I wanted to dry off," she whined, waving a hand toward her crotch. She was standing upright and her dress was pulled back down, but she was currently commando.

Rima shook her head. "That crosses the line for what I'm willing to do with other people's linens. Use this." She held out Portia's black panties, to which she'd already attached a sanitary pad. It totally ruined the sleek aesthetic they had going, but Portia couldn't deny the efficacy. She pulled her panties on, still a bit giggly and unstable on her feet, then gave a firm nod when she was done.

Rima returned the nod, gave the room one more quick appraisal to make sure they hadn't left some startling indication of their sexual act, then remembered to put her human appearance back on. Once the glamor had taken effect, she unlocked the door and peeked her head out. An elderly woman was waiting a half dozen feet away, too far to have heard their whisperings unless she had a truly titanic hearing aid.

"Sorry for the wait," Rima said, flashing her brightest smile and hoping against hope there wasn't a pubic hair stuck in her teeth.

If there was, the woman needed better glasses, because she smiled back and said, "Oh, it's fine. Congratulations on your pregnancy, missy."

"Thank you," Rima said with a small bow, then she pulled Portia along behind her.

The old lady looked a bit puzzled at the sight of a second woman leaving the restroom, but her need for the toilet took precedence. She shuffled inside and closed the door, leaving Rima and Portia alone in the hallway.

"That was what, ten minutes total? Not too bad," Rima said, mostly to make herself feel better about the disruption to their date. "Thank you very much, love."

Portia smiled back, a bit tipsy from both the wine and the endorphins in her system. "You're welcome. Now let's finish our meal."

Rima grinned. " _Your_ meal. I already ate."

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note:  
> This original short story (with potential for a sequel) was funded by [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Natron77), and released there a month early. If you want to read my latest lewd chapter right now _and_ have a say in which lewd chapter I work on next, please consider joining at the $10 tier.


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